


Master and Pet

by Nia_Kantorka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Anal Sex, Blood and Violence, Cock Bondage, Dark, Don't copy to another site, Human Pet Kink, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, POV Harry Potter, POV Voldemort (Harry Potter), Self-degradation (Harry’s mind is a disturbing place here), Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22877719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nia_Kantorka/pseuds/Nia_Kantorka
Summary: The Dark Lord takes full advantage of the fact that Harry Potter has come to enjoy life as his pet.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 12
Kudos: 293
Collections: HP Kinkfest 2020





	1. Master

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CheekyTorah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyTorah/gifts).



> This is the first dark fanfic I've written in 5 years. So, please read the tags and give it a pass if that'd be healthier for you. Admittedly, this story is a deviation from my usual, fluffier works. That said, it was great fun to be mean to my favourite character for once and to use CheekyTorah's brilliant prompt 'human pet kink' (#S103) as an inspiration. 
> 
> Thank you very much, [Candamira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Candamira/pseuds/Candamira) and [CarolineLamb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinelamb/profile), for your alpha and beta read! This fic became so much better because of your help. ♥
> 
> Thanks to the kink fest mods for their hard work and for giving us all another round of this beautiful fest!

**Master**

Voldemort looked at his pet.

It was sleeping, unperturbed by the ropes that bound its wrists and ankles to the four-poster bed. He admired the widespread legs which drew his gaze to the well-used red hole. Voldemort's half-hard cock twitched at the sight and grew thicker, tenting his black silken robes. His smile, always feared by his followers and often enough by the figure sprawled out before him, turned more cruel, fitting for the occasion.

The angle of the pet's head was in an uncomfortable position, but it had learned to make due. Time to wake up his sleeping beauty... well, as a beauty others wouldn't describe Harry Potter any longer, but his pet was a piece of art—at least to him, who had inflicted all the scars and bruises and... necessary modifications.

"Pet", he said, "it's time for you to wake up. I feel the urgent need to use your pliant body and your sloppy arsehole. I want to have some fun with my little whore before duty calls." Parseltongue purred from his mouth in mesmerising whispers. It was the most bewitching language, worth of only being spoken by him, known by just one other being in the world.

His pet startled, lifting its dishevelled head from the pillow and pulling at its restraints. 

"None of that", Voldemort chided, though he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face when their eyes met. His pet's gaze darkened. It attempted to shake off any residue of sleepiness, opening its mouth; the only sound coming out was a feeble whimper.

"Still not used to being mute, pet? Be thankful I've left your vocal cords intact. It really wouldn't do, if you couldn't whimper in despair or moan wantonly or do both", he hissed, seeing the effects his voice was taking on his pet. 

Voldemort shrugged off his robes, stroked himself to full hardness while gazing at his pet's leaking hole. The magical self-lubrication spell upon hearing Parseltongue always worked like a charm. Rosy flesh was glistening now; However, they could do better.

He continued.

"I can't believe how long it took me to cross-spell the timbre of my voice to your pleasure centre. All the useless fighting we did. Don't get me wrong: I find great pleasure in casting the Unforgivables as much as any of my Death Eaters do. Torture can be superb when brought upon the right opponent. But once you were broken in as a pet... So much time lost we could have spent better."

His pale, long and cold fingers slid over the pet's warm rear, soaking up heat from their skin to skin contact. "You're always running so hot. I'm still astonished how your suppressed magic bound to mine has turned you into such a furnace. You were the second strongest wizard once, after all. But not any longer. Now you're mine. My pet, my slut, my cock warmer, my magical reservoir. Aren't you proud to be all _that_ to your master?"

His pet wriggled on the mattress and moaned, desperate to be fucked by now. Yet, prolonging its torture meant prolonging his own pleasure. In quick succession, he smacked the pale buttocks, marvelling at the welts and stripes he had left there over time. 

"Your bum has healed up nicely. Guess, you're in for a good whipping soon." His pet was dripping with slick now, fat translucent globs were running down its perineum and balls. It keened, emitting high-pitched sounds. 

"You like the cane better?" Voldemort asked mockingly, knowing his pet would take whatever he wanted it to. 

"You did look quite fine with a cane shoved into you… the last time we played fetch the stick." 

Cackling, he gathered up some of the leaking fluids, thereby avoiding his pet's pucker intentionally, to fondle his cock with them. His nostrils flared, the allure of his pet's scent never failed to arouse him even more. His hissing became sharper. "Ah, you smell... so sweet, so ripe... for the taking."

He positioned himself behind his pet and shoved his cock up to the hilt into the hot wet channel. He groaned, and the pet under him joined him, sounding like the whore he had trained it to be. It was fueling his own desire, but Voldemort loved to tease his pet until it grew nearly insane with unfulfilled want.

Feeding off the pet's magic through their indestructible connection he strengthened his willpower. Bathing in increased powers, Voldemort stilled for a few seconds. Then he conjured a thin silken rope that wound itself around his pet's balls and the base of its dick into a very smooth but painfully effective cock ring. 

"Are you in a hurry, pet?"

A long whine escaped its throat and shudders wrecked the slim body beneath him; such a lovely reward for holding himself back. Voldemort laughed out loud once more when he picked up his movements, in a slow, languid pace. 

Conversationally, he said, "I had this marvellous idea, pet: I should curse—or shall I say reward—you with a pair of ovaries and a womb. That way we could create a child together. Imagine what a powerful heir to my empire our combined magic could create."

Even aroused like a bitch in heat his pet was listening. Now it shook its head furiously and bucked under him like a very disobedient mare. Voldemort's good mood vanished. Instead, hot anger washed over him and his eyes flickered in a deep crimson. Violently, he grabbed the pet's hair, nails scraping over its skin. He pulled at black strands, wrenching the pet's head back until its spine's twist resembled the unnatural arch of a twig nearly breaking; A position its body couldn't hold for long before it collapsed, whimpering into the mattress. 

"Haven't you learned yet, that you get no say in what's happening to you?" Voldemort asked, out of spite still using Parseltongue, so his pet's channel fluttered under the stimulation, regardless of his own erection flagging a bit in his ire. 

"Generously, I was telling you about a plan that concerned you. Of course, witches, like Bellatrix, would all go crazy over such an opportunity, but I'm not inclined towards females," Voldemort said. It had become his habit to talk to his pet about anything going on in his mind. "Admittedly, I need to think about it some more. Not sure I want to forsake your lessons in obedience for a full nine months. Imagine how ill-humoured I'd be by the end. It might be an idea we will come back to in a few years. Or decades. It's not as if you are growing old any time soon."

He smirked: his plaything couldn't reveal any of his secrets… without the ability to speak and its mind shielded as it was. His followers had learned the Cruciatus way that his pet's mind was as well protected as his own. 

He had never shied away from doing forbidden magic or the challenge of creating perfidiously twisted curses. No wonder he was still proud of the spell he had invented to keep his pet permanently looking sixteen and his own body in as a good condition as ever.

Voldemort continued fucking the floundering body under him, mouthing at its latest, barely scabbed-over wound—a perfect replica of his bite. His pet whined but Voldemort didn't pay it any mind. He buried his teeth in its flesh, reopening the wound and mauling it anew. The tang of iron and copper in his mouth worked like the sweetest aphrodisiac, hardening his cock even more. The wailing sounds his pet made only egged him further on. His sharp nails scratched over pale slim shoulders and sides, breaking scarred skin again, adding more blood to their coupling.

"Yes," he hissed, not giving a damn about the force he used. Only the restraints kept his pet from sliding over the sheets like a rag doll under his rough treatment and hard thrusts.

The sounds coming from his pet were desperate again. He had conditioned it well; Seeking its own pleasure was the most important thing in its life—well-dosed satisfaction and withholding it at his whim had been the way to get there. 

Voldemort remembered the cock ring, for a moment still vexed about the earlier signs of disobedience, but then he changed his mind and vanished the constricting silk.

"Am I not a merciful master?" he asked, knowing he was anything but. 

With a long whine, his pet came, its body shuddering under him, sending a boost of magic through their connection. Voldemort voraciously leapt it up and reached his climax too. With a triumphant shout, he spilt his seed in his pet's clenching arse.


	2. ... and Pet

**... and Pet**

The pet woke up when the master called. He was using _that_ language of theirs. Of course, he did. Its master knew just how crazy it drove the pet—in body and mind.

It was still restrained. The pet always checked because deep down was this tiny kernel that still remembered who it once had been. _It_ had been a person once, sometimes it still thought of itself as a _he_ —though referring to himself as an it became more and more natural around the master. 

The pet remembered how its master had suppressed and diminished its personality and changed its appearance until its whole being had shattered under the onslaught. By being fed lust potions, but completion being withheld whenever it had crossed or provoked its master. It had been forced to kneel and crawl at long times while being verbally humiliated by every single one of its master's allies. The countless sessions of being caned, flogged or whipped, until its pale skin had turned to a bloodied pulp. Having its body modified had been horrifying, each alteration degrading it more into its pet persona. Getting starved of touch had done what everything else couldn't—the pet's sanity had broken for good. 

Possessing magic had made it more resilient, but in the end, it had only extended its abuse and transformation. The pet shuddered involuntarily.

But it knew that it had been a person once, a someone, who had had a name and who had fought this wizard, his master. It was nearly inconceivable now, but sometimes short bursts of fragmented memories flashed through its mind: there had been other people, a girl with brunette hair and crooked teeth, a freckled boy with ginger hair; the pet remembered to have cared for them. A fleeting second later, they all were brushed aside by the glowing form of its master, who was whispering of seduction, pleasure and darkness. The flimsy recollection vanished from the pet's mind. It was, unable to stay lucid against the promises of exquisite sex and harm. 

For a second a clear thought crossed the pet's mind about how weirdly it was wired. How twisted it was to associate sex with pain and pain with sex. But the elusive thought turned to nought under its body's reaction to its master's voice, a timbre that turned its insides quite literally to jelly and made the pet incredibly horny. In the end, it only ever longed for more fucking, no matter how much it hurt.

As the pet turned its head crimson eyes met its own, their gaze cruel and beautiful. The pet swallowed. It wanted its master, but it couldn't tell. It could only whine pathetically for his attention and listen to the dirty words, spilling from slim lips in a language only the two of them understood.

The master's minions all got terrified by the sounds while the pet always had a hard time not to slip out of its robes and jump the man in public. It didn't dare without being told so, which, thankfully, had happened on more than one occasion—the pet loved to gather the attention of every single Death Eater in the room, by climbing onto its master's lap, bouncing with its greedy arse on the man's thick and long cock with abandon. The conjured picture of the last time they had done so only added to the pet's arousal. Nothing kept it from writhing on the bed and lifting its arse invitingly now that they were on their own, not even the bloody restraints.

The pet moaned when its master's finger stroked its rear. A sound that turned whiny when nothing happened except more talking. It was so hot and wet for him and then, finally, the mattress dipped and its arse got smacked until it was nearly bursting from heat and arousal. Not long, and its master breached its arse. Silently, it screamed, _yes_ , and moaned. Its master joined him just to stop his movements. He loved to drive the pet crazy this way. 

It waited but nothing happened, except for the swirls of energy racing through and out of it. The pet was used to this. It knew his master transferred, or—put more simply—stole its magic, but the pet didn't have any use for magic for a while now. In the beginning, it had fought him—a lot. It hadn't worked. The pet had only exhausted itself and woken up aroused and defeated.

After a while, it had stopped its antagonism. It had realised that in its position as its master's living sex toy and personal slave, magic wasn't something it needed to function. By now, the use of spells, charms or hexes had become a faraway memory, a hazy thing, just like those flashbacks. None of it made its master fuck the pet harder or faster or persuaded him to fuck it at all. 

Suddenly, its cock and balls were engulfed by constricting silk and the pet just gave in and whined pitifully. And then, after a long time that maybe were just mere seconds, its master picked up his thrusts. Still too shallow to bring the pet off, but that would not happen right now anyway. 

Voldemort continued to ramble into the pet's ears while he fucked it from behind. It didn't listen to him that closely, being occupied with its body's reactions to the language, but then something about ovaries and a new purpose registered. And not in a good way. The pet recoiled from its master, viciously refusing the imagined picture of becoming a broodmare. It bucked away, its heart beating like a hummingbird's. Desperate huffs were coming out of its mouth. 

Taking the rough pull at its hair into account, its master wasn't amused. The pet collapsed under the pressure from behind and the unnatural angle it was bent into, and when its master's weight crushed it, a whimpering sound escaped its mouth. 

A scolding master was nothing new, the pet knew things weren't dire as long as he was still talking and using _that_ voice to address it. Its body reacted just like it always did and the pet moaned wantonly.

As a reward or a punishment—the pet could barely distinguish one from the other at times—the fucking continued. Its master's mouth closed in on his preferred biting spot and the pet whimpered... in anticipation. He bit the pet, hard, and then licked over the wound in an attempt to lap up as much blood off its skin as he could. White spots of pain-pleasure danced before the pet's eyes. 

_Merlin_ , it was close, but the cock ring put a hold onto it reaching its climax. The pet wailed desperately. Nails scratched over its flanks and arms, its master's thrusts became erratic and it all drove the pet further into the sweetest madness. 

Then, at last, the silken cock ring vanished. The pet's relief resulted in eager moans. It desperately shoved itself on its master's cock, clenching around his hard flesh. With tingling nerves and constricting muscles, the pet finally reached its peak. It came, spurring its release onto the silken sheets. Not much later, the pet was still bathing in a pliable haze, it registered how its master followed it over the edge, spilling his seed into it all the while devouring more of its magic. 

_And he had the nerve to call it a greedy slut._

>><<

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this work of fiction! For more kinky works, follow [HP Kinkfest on DreamWidth](https://hpkinkfest.dreamwidth.org/).
> 
> Comments and kudos are ♥.


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